


49 Days Since Case One

by AnExhaustedArmadillo



Series: Case One [15]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Amnesia, M/M, Tension, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21587473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnExhaustedArmadillo/pseuds/AnExhaustedArmadillo
Summary: George and Joe don't hear the news they want to regarding George's amnesia.
Relationships: Background Bill Guarnere/Frances Guarnere, Background Richard Winters/Lewis Nixon, George Luz/Joseph Toye
Series: Case One [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1438132
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	49 Days Since Case One

Joe knew people at the camp. That had come as a shock to George. Mostly because it was the apocalypse, and coincidental reunions didn’t seem like the likeliest thing to happen. But, despite the odds, Joe had successfully reunited with a couple of guys from his old army days.

The first man was named Winters. He’d been one of Joe’s commanding officers, and now he was in charge of the community. From what George could gather, he was a professional, well-mannered man, and Joe seemed to trust his judgement implicitly, which meant George did, too. Winters was seemingly always accompanied by another man, Nixon, but Joe said that he hadn’t actually known him from before. George had apparently not met either of them before.

The second man from Joe’s past was Bill Guarnere, who’d enlisted with Joe. Bill was from Philadelphia, a fact that George picked up on as soon as he heard him speak. Bill was a wilder soul, from what George could tell. He was funny, playfully rude and adept at ribbing, and he had an undeniable aura of strength. According to Joe, George and Bill had known each other from before, a fact that Bill himself confirmed. George was incredibly disappointed that he couldn’t remember him. He couldn’t hide the sadness on his face when he heard about George’s amnesia.

Soon after he and Joe had arrived at the community, they’d gone to see the doctor who had been advertised on all of the community’s signs. The doctor’s name was Eugene. George met with him alone.

Eugene started by checking George’s reflexes. He clapped his hands near George’s ears, he shined a small flashlight in his eyes, and he listened to his heartbeat. Eugene was a quieter man, with a soft demeanor that made George feel surprisingly comfortable around him.

“So, how did it happen?” Eugene asked, after he’d made sure that George wasn’t suffering from any other brain trauma.

“I don’t actually remember it myself, but Joe told me I got hit in the head by a collapsed ceiling.” Eugene nodded in response.

“Well, the good news is that you’ve got no other problems, least that I can see,” He said. “The bad news is that there’s no way to cure amnesia, especially when it’s trauma induced.”

“What?” George asked, feeling a little crestfallen, and he was sure it showed on his face.

“That doesn’t mean you’ll never get your memories back, it just means there’s nothing I could do to get them back for you,” He said, and George stared solemnly, though he’d figured as much already. “My advice, stick with Joe. Talk with him- and with Bill- about shared memories, your history together, things like that. With any luck, something’ll jog your memory and you’ll get it all back.”

“Okay, thank you.” George said and Gene nodded.

“Mind sending in Frannie?”

George nodded, and he stepped out of the makeshift doctor’s office and into the hallway of the building it was held in. As he made his way to the lobby, which now functioned as a waiting room, he heard voices.

“- _nothing?_ ” Hissed a voice that George would have to say was Bill Guarnere’s.

“Nothing,” Replied a voice that was undoubtedly Joe’s. “Nothing from our time together, at least.”

“So then he doesn’t know-”

“No,” Joe cut him off. “But he didn’t know even when he had his memory.” That struck George with a pang of suspicion. There was no doubt that they were talking about him, but what did he not know?

“Oh, Joe,” Cooed a softer, female voice, which George was pretty sure was Frannie Guarnere.

“It’s fine,” He assured them. “It’s better this way.” George, who was feeling very confused by the conversation he was clearly not meant to hear, took that as his cue to enter the waiting room.

“Hey,” He said softly, and Joe, Bill and Frannie all looked up sharply, before their faces all erupted into smiles.

“Hey,” Joe said, taking a step towards George, who toed his way backwards. “What’d he say?”

“He said that there was nothing he could do to get my memories back,” George told him, and Joe looked even more disappointed than George. He could see Bill and Frannie avert their gaze out of the corner of his eye. “ _But_ he did say that they could come back, and that I should stick with you to make it more likely that something will jog my memory.” Joe didn’t look comforted by that. “He said I have no other brain trauma,” He offered pathetically, but Joe still frowned. Bill, thank God, took that moment to step in.

“Well,” He said, clapping George on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get ‘em back. And, if not, I’m sure living with Joe here left you with some memories that are better left forgotten. Ain't that right, Toye?” And Joe gave a ghost of a smile so brief that George wasn’t sure it was real. Bill gave George a comforting look, and George found himself wishing yet again that he remembered him.

“Let’s go, Bill,” Frannie said, resting a hand on her growing belly, and the two of them left to go check in with the doc, leaving George alone with a Joe who looked like someone had just brutally murdered his puppy in front of him.

“Wanna…” George said. “Go home?”

“Yeah,” Joe said unfeelingly. “Let’s go home.”

Staying close to Joe while he waited for his memories to return wouldn’t be that hard because they’d decided to share an apartment in the community. The first time they’d seen the apartment, George had mused to himself that it was probably like old times, but he hadn’t shared that sentiment with Joe because he knew it’d just make him sad. His efforts appeared to have been in vain, however, as Joe seemed plenty sad already.

It was evening, and George wasted no time in beginning dinner when they reached their apartment, mostly as an excuse to avoid talking to Joe. They had limited resources now that they were living in a post-apocalyptic world, but Winters had told them that all of the apartments had functional fireplaces, even though they probably weren’t meant to be that way when they were built. George used a match to start a fire, then poured some water in a pot to boil. Winters and Nixon had been kind enough to share some of the limited food with them. George put some rice in the pot, and knifed open a can of beans. It was far from refined, but warm food was as much as one could hope for.

He set the food down in front of Joe, whose mood hadn’t visibly brightened. They ate silently for a minute, with the awkwardness growing inside of George until he couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Are you okay?” He blurted out suddenly, and Joe stared at him and blinked. George tried again.“You seem a little… upset.” Joe dragged a hand on his face before responding.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He said, exhaustion weighing in his voice. “I’m just a little disappointed, is all.” He paused for a moment, and George thought that was that, but then Joe continued. “I mean, the biggest reason we _came_ here was because the signs said there was a doctor. But it doesn’t even _matter_ because there’s nothing he can do.” Joe seemed to calm down for a minute, before continuing his rant. “It’s not that I’m not glad we came. It’s good that a doctor checked you out, and obviously I’m glad to see Bill and Winters again. But it just pisses me off that I- that there’s _nothing_ we can do to get your memories back.”

“Joe,” George said. “It’s okay.”

“How can you say that?” He asked sharply. “You don’t remember _four years_ of your life. You don’t remember-” Joe cut himself off, but George was pretty sure he was going to end that sentence with “me”. “I just don’t understand how you can say that it’s okay.”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” George asked. “The way you described the accident, I’m lucky to be here. My memories just don’t seem to be as big of a problem as the infected are.” He shrugged. “Besides, just because I don’t remember everything doesn’t mean we’re not friends.”

Joe shook his head, “It kind of does.” George looked down at his hands. He knew that Joe had taken his memory loss really hard. Why, exactly, he couldn’t say without knowing more about his history with Joe. He knew that his friendship with Joe wasn’t the same. But, still, hearing him say so out loud hurt, and George couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t enough.

“Right,” He said. “I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow.”   
“George-” Joe started, but George didn’t listen. He left his half eaten food where it was and retreated briskly to his room, where he lay awake for a while, trying his hardest to remember anything he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh so it's been over a month since my last update. Yikes. But guess who's on break and hoping to get more done!!!
> 
> Since Thanksgiving is tomorrow, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who reads and comments, ya'll really motivated me to get this done <3\. Happy holidays!


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